


Nights

by timelordvictorious1



Series: Greenwood Royal Family Chronicles [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Co-Sleeping, Depression, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordvictorious1/pseuds/timelordvictorious1
Summary: After the loss of his wife, Thranduil gets depressed at the sight of his empty bed.This story is related to my other works but can be read on its own.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil, Thranduil/Thranduil's Wife
Series: Greenwood Royal Family Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676581
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87





	Nights

Thranduil watched his son sleep. Tears had started welling in his eyes.

  
  


For the first years of his life, Legolas had slept in Thranduil’s bed. His nursemaids had tried teaching him to sleep in his own bed in the nursery, but that just resulted in Legolas crying inconsolably all night. The only solution, the only way to get him to sleep was to have him sleeping next to his adar. Thranduil didn’t mind; he loved having his elfling, the only memento he had of his wife, with him.

But that was years ago. Now, he claimed he was a big ellon, and ellons slept in their own beds. So he had taken to sleeping in his own bed lately. Thranduil hated to admit it, but he missed having his son at his side. 

When he was first married, he had a bigger bed especially made for him to share with his wife. When he became a father, he commissioned an even bigger one, for the nights where he and Erynith would just lay baby Legolas in the middle and admire the beautiful elfling they’d made together.

Now, his wife was dead and his son was too old to sleep in the same bed as him. This wasn't usually a problem during the day; running the kingdom took too much of his attention to notice. But nights, nights were the worst. It was at night, when everything was silent, that he thought about how much he had lost. He would hear the echoes of Erynith’s voice and laughter, or the absence of Legolas’ little snores. There were nights where he simply couldn’t go to his bed, the bed where he had lain with his wife, the bed where his son was conceived, and the bed that Legolas was too old to sleep in now. During these long, endless nights, he usually tried to find something to do, anything to keep his mind busy.

On that particular night, he had nothing else to do. His son was sleeping peacefully, his work was done, and there was no one awake to keep him company. 

Galion, being ever-observant, could usually predict when Thranduil’s nighttime melancholia would strike and stay up with him. But even Galion was not perfect. So, Thranduil was alone that night.

Thranduil exited Legolas’ room quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping elfling. He silently closed the door and turned to walk to his room. Thankfully, he had had enough forethought to dismiss his guards for the night; he would hate for any of his subjects to see him in that state. 

The first thing he saw was his bed. His empty bed. It was too much for him to bear, so he quickly exited his room. He walked down to the cellar and took a bottle of his favorite Dorwinion wine. Luckily, there were no guards in this part of the palace at that hour, so he was able to make a clean getaway without anyone seeing him. He didn’t bother with a glass, his plan was to drink it straight from the bottle.

His escape would be a little trickier. All entrances of the palace would be guarded, but he was determined to get away. His best bet was to go back to his room and climb down the balcony. He entered his room, forcing himself to ignore the gaping emptiness of the bed, walked to the balcony, and put one foot over the railing.

Climbing down with the bottle in one hand was no easy feat, but he was determined to make his escape. As soon his feet were firmly on the ground, he decided to make a run for it.

Anyone watching him would have thought it childish for the grown Elvenking to run away from his home in the middle of the night, but Thranduil didn’t care. He needed to escape the chasmic hole of solitude and loneliness that his bed represented.

He didn’t run very far, just until he found the perfect tree. It was a huge mallorn, perfect for climbing. He deftly climbed to the tallest limb and laid down. He stared at the moon, at the stars, and at the forest around him while he took swigs from his pilfered bottle of wine. Before he knew it, tears started streaming from his eyes. Soon after, he began sobbing without abandon; there was no one around to hear anyways, so he let it all out. In between sobs, he took swigs of wine and soon regretted not having taken two bottles. 

He drank until there was no more wine in the bottle and sobbed until there were no more tears left in him.

When he was done drinking and crying, he was able to find a sort of peace. For as much pain and grief that had followed her death, he wouldn’t have traded his all-too-brief time with Erynith for anything. Their union had given him memories that he’d cherish the rest of his days. It had given him happiness and —most importantly— it had given him his son. He loved his son more than he could love anyone or anything else. And he wouldn’t have Legolas if not for their time together, so he would never, could never, regret his time with her.

His melancholic reverie was interrupted by someone approaching. By the footsteps, he could tell it was an elfling; only one elfling would be in the forest at that time of night.

“Ada?” the little elfling called out. 

“What are you doing out of bed,  _ tithen las?” _

Legolas eventually found him. He had a blanket wrapped around his waist and a stuffed toy elk secured under his arm.

“What are you doing, Legolas?”

“I came to look for you. The trees told me where to find you.”

Thranduil should have known the trees would betray him. Legolas could hear the trees talking better than any other elfling his age. 

“Why are you out of bed?”

“I had a bad dream and I wanted you to tell me a story before I go to sleep again.

“Who did you tell you had a nightmare?”

“When I couldn’t find you, I went to Galion. He told me you might be in the forest.”

Thranduil groaned. Galion would surely berate him in the morning for sneaking off into the forest without telling anyone. 

Thranduil knew his alone time was up. If he didn’t come back soon, Galion would raise the alarm and send companies of soldiers out to retrieve him. He climbed down, careful to hide the empty wine bottle under his robe and started walking back with Legolas.

“Will you carry me, ada?”

“Of course,” he responded as he scooped Legolas up. 

“Do you miss nana?”

“Why would you ask me that  _ penneth _ ?”

“I heard some adults talking. They said that you’re always sad because you miss her so much. Is that true?”

Thranduil was shocked. He thought he was pretty good at hiding his grief from his subjects, but he wasn’t, apparently. He was shocked that not only was his grief a topic of conversation, but that someone had been careless enough to say it in front of Legolas. 

“I do miss her,” he said, choking back tears.

“Will you tell me a story about her?”

“Don’t you prefer the one about the dragon I slayed? I know that’s one of your favorites.” 

Thranduil would have preferred to tell Legolas literally any story, other than the ones about Erynith; those were still too painful for him. 

“You can tell me both!”

Thranduil chuckled lightly. “You’re a sneaky little elfling, Legolas! I’ll tell you one story about your mother. No more.”

They chose to climb back up the balcony rather than walk all the way to the front gates. Thranduil made Legolas climb on his own; there’d be no way to hide the bottle under his robe and carry Legolas too.

They were both met with the sight of Galion sitting near the balcony railing with his arms crossed. 

“Can you please scold me tomorrow morning, Galion?”

Galion smelled the wine on Thranduil’s breath. It was just one more thing he’d be adding to his list of “Things to Scold Thranduil For”.

“Since Legolas is here, I’ll wait. But don’t think for a second that I’ll forget!”

“Thank you, Galion. This kingdom would fall to pieces without you. And I sincerely mean that,” said Thranduil as he discreetly handed Galion the empty bottle. 

“ _ Just one more for the list,” _ thought Galion

“Good night,” said Galion to Thranduil, bitterly. “And good night, Legolas. Thank you for finding him for me,” he added while pinching Legolas’ cheek.

They both said their good nights to the irate butler as he left the room. Thranduil started heading to Legolas’ room when he was interrupted.

“Ada, I want to sleep in your bed tonight. Is that okay?”

“I thought you said you were too big for that?”

“No, I don’t think I am. Sometimes I can sleep in my bed and sometimes in yours.”

“Okay,  _ penneth. _ Whatever you want,” he said with a big smile on his face. 

They both snuggled into bed as Thranduil began recounting a story. It pained him to tell it, but being with his son made it worth it.

Now that he had his little leaf with him, the empty bed didn’t seem so terrifyingly daunting. He could face it now, at least for one more night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Any comments, questions, or constructive criticisms are welcome and appreciated.


End file.
